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I wrote my poems with my heart

I wrote my poems with my heart I strolled abroad With my manuscripts, drew my expectations into my drawings The avalanche of suffering crushes me. I put years on my back, stored secrets in my memory Often I could not end trips... I was annoyed by the hypocritical before my eyes The mothers gave birth to tears The orphans and the forlorn distributed grief. I wrote my poems with my heart I strolled abroad With my manuscripts, drew my expectations into my drawings The avalanche of suffering crushes me. Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI Rueil Malmaison – 10.12.2005 Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français French free verse translated into English free verse by Joneve McCormick, 22.02.2006

Copyright © | Year Posted 2006




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